


Brand New Moves

by bvngeegvm



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Sexual Content, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Drama, Friends With Benefits, Jisung has tattoos, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Mark and Donghyuck are siblings, Meeting the Parents, Mentions of Cancer, Music Prodigy Park Jisung, Not Beta Read, Producer Mark Lee (NCT), Rapper Mark Lee (NCT), Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bvngeegvm/pseuds/bvngeegvm
Summary: “Who the hell ends up fake dating their fuck buddy?” Donghyuck asks, eyes and tone extremely judgmental.The answer, like it is for most things that have no good explanation is, Mark Lee.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Park Jisung (NCT)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	Brand New Moves

**Author's Note:**

> if you saw me post this before, no you didn't....

Sweaty bodies push closer when the lights dim. The only thing visible on stage is neon fingers sliding sensually down the silver microphone stand. A low moan echos in the mic before the slow cadence of drums begins to build. 

Mark bobs his head along. This is the first time Donghyuck has allowed Mark to see one of her shows despite his (and their mother’s) insistence on him being a supportive older brother. 

The drummer has a deep voice that pitches low and soft when he sings. Not made for singing at all but somehow, he makes it work and Mark is immediately drawn to it. 

The drummer looks vaguely familiar but Mark can’t quite put his finger on it. Mark recognizes the rest of the band though, Renjun on keys and Chenle on bass but he’s never seen the drummer show up to any of the practices. 

He wonders if he’s new to the band. 

After the performance Donghyuck and the band meet him at the bar, he nods at Chenle and Renjun and sends a glare at Jaemin whose already got his hand on Donghyuck’s thigh, inching up her skirt. He’s so sleazy Mark hates it but Donghyuck is shameless. An absolute match made in hell but Jaemin has been tripping over himself to win Donghyuck since they were freshman, braces and all so Mark supposes he approves. 

“Mark hyung, you remember Jisung, right?” Donghyuck asks, gesturing to the drummer. 

Mark just kind of short circuits. He does remember him now that he has a name to a face but he didn’t look like this. He can’t seem to stop staring or get his mouth to work at all. 

He remembers the Park Jisung from high school that used to follow Donghyuck around like a lost puppy and he was _nothing_ like this, neck tattoo, pretty pink mouth, lashes dark with mascara and oozing confidence as he eyes Mark up and down. “You don’t remember me, hyung?” He pouts, but his eyes are sparkling with mirth. “I’m hurt.”

Despite himself, Mark feels his cheeks heating. Jisung’s smile widens and he’s so terribly amused as he steps into Mark’s space too close to be innocent. The kid Mark has seen in diapers is flirting with him. Mark doesn’t think he can handle it. “I do remember,” he says, voice a little too hoarse for his liking. He’s just so pretty now.

Jisung smiles like he knows what he’s thinking. And then he’s turning away leaving Mark feeling ridiculously out of place even though Jisung is the one odd man out. Renjun sends him an amused look before turning to the bar to order a round of drinks. 

Jisung doesn’t drink much the whole night and something tells Mark he should match his pace. For good reason too because Jisung approaches him sometime after Jaemin has disappeared with Donghyuck to places Mark doesn’t want to think about. 

“Mark hyung,” he says coyly, practically purring. Chenle tenses beside him, already rolling his eyes like he knows Jisung is up to no good. “Let’s fuck.”

Mark feels his face turn a horrible shade of red. “I, huh?” he stutters, his throat already dry. 

Jisung smirks at him, head tilting and drawing attention to the ink on his neck, a snake curled around a splintered violin. “You want to, no?” Mark nods, at a loss for words. “Well then, take me home.”

And that’s how he ends up here, Jisung only in his underwear and sitting pretty in Mark’s lap like it’s his throne. 

He has a peach tree tattooed on his body, spanning across his abdomen and ending at his hip. The grass below the tree is littered with bruised peaches, broken open spilling red. Jisung’s breath hitches when his hand touches it, spreading out where it says mother’s initials carved into the tree. Mark guesses he’s one of the only people to touch Jisung with the knowledge behind the tattoo. 

“You’re big,” Jisung murmurs against his mouth as he palms Mark’s erection. It’s not the first time he’s heard it but it’s different coming from Jisung. Everything is different with Jisung. They haven’t kissed yet but Mark desperately wants to. 

So he does, curls a hand in his blonde strands, and kisses him. Fire dances up his spine immediately as Jisung’s hips rock forward and Mark pries his lips apart, tongue brushing the roof of his mouth. It’s hot and wet and Jisung keeps making these breathy whines in his mouth that make Mark want to keep him forever. 

Jisung is the one who pulls away, reaching for the lube. “C’mon, I don’t have all night,” he says cheekily, drizzling the lube all over Mark’s hand himself. Mark sinks one finger inside and Jisung huffs, demanding a second one immediately. 

“Are you always like this?” Mark asks.

It takes him a minute to answer, fucking himself on Mark’s fingers. “Like what?” He snaps, eyes half-lidded as he looks down at Mark. His mascara is smudged beautifully around his eyes and his face is flushed pink. He’s a dream. 

“Bossy.”

“Yes,” he says immediately. “Give me more.”

Mark indulges him, adding a third finger and it draws the first real sound out of him, a moan that Jisung immediately cuts off by biting his lip. He looks oddly embarrassed. Mark wants to punch whoever made him feel like his pleasure is embarrassing. 

“Hey,” Mark whispers, “I wanna hear you.” 

Jisung flushes darker, turning his eyes away. “Hurry up,” he responds and then, ridiculously shy as Mark trails his hand over his body, noting that every tattoo, “Do you have a condom?”

He counts five so far before he registers Jisung’s question. “I don’t, no. I was hoping you would?”

Jisung purses his lips. “You don’t do this a lot, huh?”

“Do you?” Mark shoots back.

“S’why I don’t have any condoms,” Jisung grumbles, placing his palms on Mark’s chest and pressing him into the mattress. He wriggles until Mark pulls his fingers out. 

“So weren’t not—?” Mark can’t help but be a little disappointed. He just hopes Jisung will consider giving him another chance when Mark is prepared. 

“You can cum inside me. It’s okay if it’s you.”

Mark splutters, cheeks pinking. He ignores how his balls ache at the thought. “You’re clean?”

“Yes, are you?”

Mark nods. He doesn’t do this nearly as often as Jisung seems to do but he’s cautious and gets tested regularly. He doubts Jisung would be cruel enough to lie to him either. 

It’s a little too late for all these thoughts running through his head because Jisung is already sinking down on his cock, thighs trembling the whole way down. He doesn’t move for a moment, eyes screwed shut. 

“This is weird right?” Mark asks, breaking the silence and gripping Jisung’s hips. He has a tattoo here, a small piano over the jut of his left hip bone. Jisung’s eyes snap open to give him an exasperated expression. 

“You couldn’t have said that before you got your cock in my ass?” 

Mark’s dick gives a feeble twitch at that. “I know, I know. I just...”

“You think I’m hot, right?”

Extremely. “Y-yeah.”

“And you want to fuck me, right?”

Desperately. “Yes.”

“Then it isn’t weird,” Jisung smiles slightly as if trying to reassure Mark. He’s so cute. “C’mon my knees can only handle riding you for so long.” 

“Then ride me,” Mark demands. 

“I—what?” 

“Fuck yourself on my cock,” he orders not missing the way Jisung shudders. Jisung lifts his hips, the first drag of Mark’s cock against his walls has them both moaning. 

He fucks himself slowly at first, hips circling on Mark’s dick as he gets used to the stretch, whining about how big Mark is, how he fills him up so good. Mark smirks the whole time, touching but never thrusting up.

It annoys the hell out of Jisung but he keeps bouncing on his dick no problem, squirming until the head catches on his prostate. He gasps, working his hips back to chase the feeling. His eyes are screwed shut in pleasure, wet mouth open and wanting. Mark wants to record him, show him how desperate he looks. “You’re just gagging for it, huh?” 

Jisung’s eyes slide open, lashes heavy and eyes blown. Mark expects an attitude, some annoyance maybe. He isn’t expecting Jisung to beg. 

“Please. Fuck me. Wanna feel you. C’mon. Fuck me, fuck me. I shoulda came already. Why won’t you _fuck me,”_ He whines, hands sliding up his slick skin to tease at his own nipples and fuck if that isn’t hot. 

Mark decides to reward him, grabbing two handfuls of his ass and pressing him into the mattress. Jisung gasps, hair fanning against the sheets as Mark brings a knee to his chest and begins to fuck him in earnest, hips pistoning inside relentlessly. He has tears welling up in his eyes, hips rolling to meet every thrust. “You’re so damn pretty,” Mark tells him because he has to know. “Made for taking cock, want to keep you like this all night till you're leaking my cum.”

Jisung clenches hard around him, wrapping his own fingers around his dick. “Yeah, yes, cum inside me I want it.”

And who is Mark to deny him? He presses Jisung’s knees to his ears, balls slapping against his ass with every shaky thrust until he’s coming. Jisung keens his own orgasm painting his stomach white, toes curling as he milks Mark dry, tightening like a vice around his spent dick. 

Mark pulls out, mesmerized by the sight of Jisung’s swollen pink hole leaking out his cum. He can’t help but press two fingers inside, stuffing it back in. Jisung gives a full-body twitch, whining pathetically. Mark ends up with a foot to his face for his troubles as Jisung pushes him away with a glare. “Fucker.”

Mark shrugs, feeling his awkwardness slowly but surely return. Jisung sits up, standing on shaky legs and already starting to dress. He wants to offer so much; A place in his bed, a ride home, a chance to do that again but he stays quiet, let’s Jisung take the reins. 

“Let’s do this again, yeah?” Jisung says, already halfway out the door. 

Mark tries not to look too hopeful. “Yeah, I’m down.” 

“Then I’ll be seeing you.”

+++

He does see him, almost everywhere after that night. Jisung is always in a rush, never without coffee, and always dressed in what looks like pajamas running to and fro on the campus. Mark doesn’t know how he never noticed him before. 

Jisung is an enigma and a mystery. He has a neck tattoo and a tongue piercing yet he dances contemporary and knows how to play the harp. He runs through hair colors like he’s racing to see how much his scalp can take. Soft face, pretty eyes but a hard mouth, and calloused hands. He’s a walking contradiction and Mark would give anything to know him.

There was one time in particular where Mark happened to be visiting the same time Donghyuck and the band were practicing in their Mom’s garage. Jisung had the front of his hair pulled back by a headband, cheeks kissed pink from the heat and twirling his drumsticks between his fingers. He wasn’t paying any attention to Mark, focused avidly on whatever Donghyuck was ordering him to do but even then he looked so damn cute. 

But see is the most Mark does. Jisung is the one to seek him out. They bump into one another at a coffee shop. Jisung looks down at his watch then smiles, “Mark hyung. Let’s sit together, I have a little time today.”

So they sit, Mark yearning to touch Jisung’s now brown hair. They talk a little, Jisung giving him tiny amounts of information about the years they spent apart. Then the look in his eye changes and Jisung is pressing a socked foot against his dick. 

Mark startles so badly, his knee hits the table. Jisung looks at his watch again like he isn’t rubbing his heel against Mark’s cock. “I still have time, let me suck you off.”

So they stumble to the bathroom and Jisung sinks to his knees and Mark chokes him on his dick until tears are clouding his eyes. 

It’s a good day and Jisung gives Mark his number before he leaves, uncaring of his messy hair and bruised lips. 

And just before he leaves he smiles again and Mark has the fleeting thought, _I could write songs about you._

+++

They’re able to keep it a secret from Donghyuck for a good two months which is probably the longest he’s hid anything from her so Mark is lucky it even lasted this long. 

Mark is perfectly sated and sore in all the right places but his time to relish in that is cut short by his front door unlocking and Donghyuck’s obnoxious voice already belting a tune. “I thought your roommate was out?” Jisung says, frowning. 

“It’s my sister,” he grumbles, already scrambling to pull his clothes on. Jisung follows at a slower pace, looking at Mark with quiet amusement. 

“Oh? What is this?” Donghyuck says, her perfect eyebrows arched and mouth pursed. Mark gives her an annoyed look, tugging his shirt over his head and pressing his hair into something he only hopes is presentable and not like Jisung just fucked him within an inch of his life.

He’s never regretted giving her a key more than he does right now, as Jisung strolls out of his bedroom looking much more put together than Mark does. He still exudes confidence even as Donghyuck gives him her judgiest expression she can manage. “Chenle told me you guys banged but to think you would keep screwing my brother…” she shudders, gagging dramatically. 

Jisung gives her a tight-lipped smile. “Goodbye Donghyuck,” he says with fake politeness. 

“Hey,” Mark says as Jisung reaches for the door. Donghyuck looks between them, delighted and curious. Jisung pauses, checking Mark from head to toe. “You don’t have to go.” He wants to take the words back immediately because Jisung’s dead stare on him has him feeling embarrassingly desperate and way more naked than he was moments earlier. 

“I’m busy,” He says curtly and the two words with that tone are enough to make Mark feel humiliated for a whole week. 

“Ouch,” Donghyuck mutters, strolling off to the kitchen. 

“Right,” Mark gets out, trying not to be hurt. Jisung leaves without another word. As soon as the door closes, Donghyuck is shouting from the kitchen, “Don't take it personally, he’s always like that!”

Mark isn’t surprised. He’s always been shy and that shyness turned to something despondent after his mom died. Jisung stopped coming around a few months after. He saw him around when they were still in high school but at some point, Jisung stopped greeting him and Mark stopped trying. 

He didn’t even know Donghyuck still spoke to him let alone had him in his band. He wonders how Jisung even has the time because if he knows one thing, it’s that his dad is a hardass and if it isn’t classical it isn’t right in his eyes. 

Mark follows Donghyuck to the kitchen where she’s stuffing Cheez-Its in her mouth by the handful. “Why are you here?”

Her eyes flit to the side but Mark doesn’t miss the dampness in them. “I can't see my brother?”

“Donghyuck.” He says sternly. 

She sighs, running her fingers through her hair. “I think… I think Jaemin is cheating on me.”

Mark has never felt anger burn through him so fast. “I knew that sleazy piece of shit—“

“Oppa,” she snaps, cutting him off. Even now she’s incredibly protective of him. 

“What?” Mark huffs. “Where the fuck is he? I’ll beat his ass.”

Donghyuck laughs, genuinely amused by his anger. “Sit down, you won’t. I don’t even know if he is, I just— he’s acting weird and there’s this guy, Jeno? Jaemin hangs with him all the time and that’s fine because I’m with the band all the time you know? But one night he came back from hanging with Jeno and he wouldn’t even look at me… So I think something happened? I don’t know— He loves me, Mark and I love him but maybe it’s not enough? But I can't just accuse him, he… It’s Jaemin,” she ends helplessly, giving Mark a few seconds to parse through the senseless babble. 

“So you want to torture yourself with uncertainty? Donghyuck, no. Actually hell no! We’re going to go down there right now and confront him and if he is, I’m going to beat his ass.”

Donghyuck gives him a watery smile. “No. I will talk to him. Alone.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, now tell me. How did you manage to make Park Jisung screw you exclusively?” 

“We aren’t?” 

“Um, the whole music department knows Jisung hasn’t slept with anyone else in weeks.”

“Wait he’s _that_ Jisung? I always thought it was Han!” There is a Jisung in the art department that everyone knows sleeps around. Mark didn’t know it was the Park Jisung he’s had in and out of his life for years.

“Hey,” Donghyuck says, suddenly serious. “Those rumors really hurt his feelings so don’t, like bring that up.”

“I’m not an asshole.”

“Yeah, I know. But he is so, be careful, alright?” When Mark rolls his eyes Donghyuck glares. “I’m serious! I don’t want to have to fight my drummer because you got into something you can’t handle.”

“You know I’m older than you right? I can make my own mistakes.”

Donghyuck purses her lips. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

+++

Little by little Jisung gives Mark more of himself. Mark has never met a person as private as this and he can’t help but wonder how Jisung can stand to be in a band with the three noisiest people he knows. 

This is what he learns in the four months they’ve been screwing:

Jisung has a total of eight tattoos, three of which are dedicated to his mom, three more to his music, one he got when he was drunk, a dumb drawing he scribbled on a napkin before giving it to the tattoo artist, and one more he got as a dare from Chenle. 

Jisung has a full-ride scholarship to SM University. Despite his father being loaded and the head of the Arts department, he busted his ass to make sure it was fully covered by his hard work alone.

He eats, sleeps, and breathes his music, adheres to a tight schedule to follow his father’s every whim while also getting to perform and create the music he loves. 

He knows nearly every instrument imaginable but the piano is his favorite and it took Jisung a long time to trust Mark with this, a soft melody Mark remembers used to filter through Jisung’s childhood home, his mother’s melodious laugh following after every note. 

He has soft hands and delicate wrists but a dancer's body, strong arms, and broad shoulders. It’s what distracts him now, Jisung’s thin fingers tapping mindlessly on the keys. He’s wearing Mark’s hoodie, SMU emblazoned across the front along with a coffee stain Mark knows for sure is Jisung’s fault. He wonders what it would take for Jisung to let him fuck him against the piano. Before he can ask, he slowly tunes back into what his mother is saying. “—This could be good for you. You work too much, sweetheart.”

“What?” He asks. 

His mom ignores him. “She’s a great girl. A dancer too—“

“Did you— did you set me up? On a date?”

The piano goes dead silent for a second before Jisung starts playing something real, fingers sailing over the keys. The music is loud and clairvoyant as if he doesn’t want to hear whatever Mark is saying. It’s pointless considering they’re sitting hip to hip.

“Yes,” she agrees bluntly. “You shouldn’t be alone—“

“I’m not—“

“You are. Your music… It’s draining you. When was the last time you talked to anyone besides your siblings?”

“I have a boyfriend,” he blurts, face reddening and stomach dropping the second he says it. The keyboard screeches. Mark looks over. 

Jisung has his hand in a fist on the keys, standing up stock still.

“Hey—“ Mark calls to him and he jolts as if he just realized where he was, grabbing his gym bag and rushing out of the room. “Jisung!” 

“—name?”

“What? Whose name?”

“Your boyfriend’s name is Jisung?” His eyes widen, dread settling in the pit of his stomach. “Donghyuck’s friend?”

No, no, no, no. “I gotta go, mom. Cancel the date.”

He catches Jisung just before he exits the music hall, a hand desperately curling around his wrist. “Wait.”

Jisung jerks his hand away, turns to face Mark with a red face, eyes damp with tears. “Fuck. You. You’re just like everyone else who thinks I’m some slut!” 

“That’s not— I’m not dating anyone!”

“That’s what they all say!” His voice cracks and the first set of tears rolls down his cheeks.  
He knew the rumors were bad but to make Jisung react like this? He would have never dreamt of the lie in the first place had he’d known. Mark wants to hold him. He reaches out to do as much but Jisung is quick to shove him away. “Don’t touch me. I’m not that easy. I’m not going to fuck you.”

“That’s not what I want!” Mark snaps. “I’m trying to hug you— fuck I—“ He feels his face flush unhappily, embarrassment making him unable to meet his eyes. “Listen to me. I’m not dating anyone! I haven’t fucked anyone else in months! My mom thinks I’m dating _you.”_

Jisung narrows his eyes, scrubbing the tears off his cheeks. “What the fuck, Mark Lee.”

+++

“No.”

“Jisung, please. You’ve met my mom, you know she isn’t going to leave me alone about this.” Mark catches him by his wrist. 

“I am _not_ fake dating you! Who does that?”

“It doesn’t even have to be a long time! A month max and then we can say we broke up!”

“She’ll want to meet me.”

“So? You’ve met her before.”

Jisung crosses his arms, looking at Mark like he’s the dumbest person he’s ever had the misfortune of meeting. “One month,” he agrees finally. 

Mark could kiss him and he would if Jisung didn’t look like he’d murder him for it. “Thank you! One month, that’s all I’m asking.”

“Only if we don’t tell my dad.”

“Yeah, yes. Of course.”

+++

Jisung calls him three days later. “I’m going to kill you.”

“Um, hello to you too?” Mark says cautiously. “What did I do?”

“Your mom told my dad we’re dating.”

“How is that my fault?”

“Everything is your fault!” Jisung shouts and then hangs up on him. 

Almost seconds later he gets a text from his mom. 

From Mom 💙:  
Why didn’t you tell me Mr. Park didn’t know about you two!!!! I made a fool of myself at the grocery store!

To Mom 💙:  
Sorry, we were just waiting. 

From Mom:  
Grrrr 😡

Barely a second after Mark locks his phone, it’s lightning up with a call from Donghyuck. “Who the hell ends up fake dating their fuck buddy?” Donghyuck asks, eyes and tone extremely judgmental even through the tiny screen. 

The answer, like it is for most things that have no good explanation is, Mark Lee. “How do you know it’s fake? What if we’re really madly in love?”

Donghyuck bursts out laughing and he can hear a rustle of sheets and Jaemin’s voice in the background saying, “He does know he’s talking about Park Jisung right?” 

“Shut up, Jaemin,” he sighs. “How did you even find out?”

“Mom told us in the group chat,” Donghyuck says simply. Mark furrows his brows.

“...What group chat?”

“Oh, you’re not in it. It’s me, Johnny hyung, and Jaem. It’s called ‘Discussing the Misadventures of Mark Lee.’”

Mark hangs up on her. 

+++

“Hyuuuung,” Jisung calls barging into the studio. He does that a lot, barges in the studio, his apartment, the shower in his apartment when Mark is inside it. Mark likes it a lot, the way he fits seamlessly into Mark’s life. 

“Yes, love?” Mark answers, turning to glance at him briefly. They’ve been trying out pet names recently to get used to the feel of them and Mark loves the way Jisung’s cheeks flare red when he says a particularly sappy one. He has snow in his hair and he’s drowning in Mark’s hoodie. He’s so cute. 

He drapes himself along Mark’s shoulders, kissing his throat where Mark knows he left a hickey. “I missed you.”

Mark has missed him too. Finals have eaten up all their time that would’ve been spent in Mark’s apartment. They’ve only seen one another for the nights Jisung has crashed at his apartment with the intention of a sloppy hand job at the least and even then, Mark would be asleep half the time and wake up with Jisung beside him or already halfway out the door. It was oddly domestic and completely unnecessary because who were they trying to fool sleeping cuddled up next to each other every night in the privacy of Mark’s bedroom? Mark turns fully, pulling Jisung down for a kiss. “Missed you too.”

Still, it’s a little weird to be acting so much like a couple when there’s no one around to see the show. “So,” Jisung begins, settling down on the couch in the corner of the studio. “My dad wants to meet you.”

“Okay,” Mark says easily. He figured that would happen. 

“Come home with me for Christmas?”

“I,” Mark hesitates. Are they supposed to be that serious? Spending Holidays Together Serious? Mark doesn’t think they could fake being that serious if they tried. 

“You can always say no.” He bites his lip, looking a little disappointed but Mark knows he would never push. “He’ll understand. Well... He won’t but I’ll make him understand.”

“No, no, It’s okay. I’ll come.” 

“Great. I’ll let him know.” 

+++

Finals week goes by faster than Mark is prepared for. For the first time in his life he wishes the week dragged on and kicked his ass like it usually did but of course, the universe decided to give him a break this time knowing he has bigger fish to fry. 

He supposes that’s what happens when you’re dreading meeting your fake boyfriend’s hardass of a father even more than any test. 

Jisung shows up not even thirty minutes after his last final with a duffel bag and two train tickets. His hair is black now and his face is free of his piercings and lacking any trace of mascara or eyeliner. 

Mark hates it. Jisung isn’t meant to look so clean-cut, so boring. He likes his piercings and the way his mascara smudges and the way his brown eyes pop lined in black. Mark gets a closer look at him and sees even his ear piercings have been taken out. “It’s like you live a double life,” he says quietly, wondering why he feels so inexplicably sad for Jisung. 

He gets this feeling more than he cares to admit, this tightness in his chest when he thinks about how different things could have been if Jisung didn’t lose his mom or his dad didn’t care about the music more than him. Jisung smiles tiredly at him. It’s brief and doesn’t reach his eyes before he goes carefully blank again. Mark has a feeling he’s going to be on the other end of that expression a lot during this trip. “Yeah, well,” is all Jisung has to offer him because there is no denying it. 

“He never said anything about your tattoos?” Mark says purely out of curiosity.

Jisung snorts. “He didn’t speak to me for two months when I got this one,” he points to the violin on his neck. “It was one of my mom’s old drawings. So I don’t think he was angry, just sad. The rest, I’m not even sure he knows about since they’re not visible.”

Mark feels his heart beat triple time. This is the first time Jisung has ever gone out of his way to share something about his mother with Mark. He sees his happy, wistful eyes paired with his sad downturned mouth expression and he wants to do stupid things like propose to him. 

“I like them. Don’t know if I ever told you that,” he says, blushing for reasons he can’t explain. 

Jisung rolls his eyes, his expression telling Mark he very much does not care. “Let’s go, hyung.”

+++

The train ride is quiet and the farther they get from campus the more tense Jisung’s shoulders become. By the time Jisung is pressing his key into his front door, his shoulders are damn near up to his ears. 

It must be hard for Jisung to come home and walk back into loneliness when his life is so full on campus. 

His house looks the same as it did when they were in high school but there is a difference in atmosphere. It’s cold here, it’s not lived in anymore, it’s just for show. 

The first thing he sees is a grand piano, white, sleek, and unused, so shiny Mark’s face is reflected back to him. It wasn't like that before, there used to be stacks of music books on top, the occasional hair tie, sometimes a plate of food, and tiny smears from Jisung’s dirty fingers. Next is a wall of photographs, mostly of Jisung, from his recitals or with his parents, chubby cheeks squished against theirs as they bundle him up in hugs and kisses. 

He was so loved before cancer took his mom away. 

He has no siblings but his house was always loud with his mother’s singing and Jisung switching from one instrument to the next. 

It’s eerily silent now, the sounds of their footsteps echoing in the empty house. As Jisung leads him upstairs he catches a glimpse of a new wedding picture, the familiar sight of his father holding a new woman close. 

Jisung saunters right past but his shoulders are rigid like he’s waiting on Mark to make a comment. He knows Jisung hates this. It’s the reason why he doesn’t let anyone close. This feeling of being exposed is too much for him and he doesn’t want Mark to know the way he aches. 

Mark can feel the phantom of it anyway and if things were different, and Mark was really here as Jisung’s boyfriend he would find a way to comfort him. But he’s not so he intertwines their fingers, giving Jisung a squeeze and doesn’t say anything at all. 

+++

They were supposed to do this in the shower. It’s huge and grand and Mark could fuck Jisung right on the tiled floor inside it, it was that big. 

But then Mark saw the mirror over the sink that covered the majority of the wall and he wanted Jisung to watch himself fall apart. 

He maybe, probably fingered Jisung too long because, by the time he’s sliding inside, the front door is opening, two voices filtering upstairs. 

“Shit,” Jisung moans, legs trembling so much as Mark pulls one thigh and braces it on the sink. Jisung keeps it there no problem, his flexibility a gift. “They’re home.”

Mark smirks, slamming his hips back inside, inching Jisung forward. He looks absolutely obscene in the mirror, one of Mark’s sweaters hanging off his bruised collarbone, lips swollen from sucking cock, and black hair in disarray from Mark’s fist. 

Jisung whines long and loud before his eyes, widen, slapping a hand over his mouth. 

He can feel the way his thighs shake, chest heaving every time Mark fucks into him. He’s moaning so loud, even the hand covering his mouth isn’t stifling it. “You must want to get caught, huh?” Jisung shakes his head frantically but Mark can tell by the way his hips stutter he’s close. 

His leg slides off the sink and his back arches, taking Mark deeper, fucking himself on Mark’s cock until his eyes are fluttering. 

So he curls a hand around the base of his cock in retaliation and doesn’t let him come. Jisung groans, head lulling to the side. “You think I’m a toy?” Mark growls into his ear. They can hear voices now, getting closer to the bathroom. Jisung shakes his head. “Don’t rush to come, I’m not ready yet.” 

Mark draws out, thrusting back in slow so Jisung feels every inch of him, every drag against his prostate. That’s when the tears start, rolling down his pink cheeks. “Yeah,” Mark grunts. “Love it when you cry for me, you’re such a slut.”

Footsteps approach outside the door and it has Jisung’s walls clenching tight around him, his fingers slapping hard against the tile sink as he tries not to moan. “I think they’re here, Hayoon. The showers running.”

Jisung starts squirming away, slapping him on the arm. “Hurry up and fucking come, Jesus—“ He chances, before Mark fucks into him hard and his knee hits the cabinet. Mark laughs into his neck as Jisung turns a horrified shade of red. 

“Dinner is at 6, sharp, Jisung!”

Mark raises one eyebrow, watching Jisung’s face as he begins to stroke his cock. “Answer,” he whispers.

“Fucker,” he groans, head dropping to the sink. “O-okay!” He shouts, a bitten off whine breaking up the word. 

“Good,” he murmurs, spreading Jisung apart to watch himself disappear inside. “Look,” he forces Jisung’s chin up before sliding his palm against his throat. “Look at how well you take me.”

Jisung bites his lip, flush spreading down his chest as Mark begins to fuck him in earnest, Jisung’s walls fluttering around him with every thrust. “Need to cum,” he gasps, “Please, can I—?”

“I’m not stopping you,” Mark tells him and then he’s coming, mouth falling open in a needy whine as he clenches tight around Mark, sucking him in. That’s all it takes for Mark to cum inside him, vision damn near whiting out from how hard Jisung is squeezing him. 

They stand there catching their breath for a moment before Jisung snaps, “Pull out, I hate you.”

Mark does but not before he angles Jisung’s head up for a kiss. “No, you don’t.”

“You were supposed to wear a condom,” he says flatly. 

Mark gazes down at the slickness between his cheeks and is hit with another bout of lust. He can count the number of times he’s worn a condom with Jisung on one hand. “Was I?” Is all he says, sending a sidelong glance at the condom on the floor. 

Jisung flips him off. 

They still have a little time before they have to meet downstairs for dinner so they shower together under the lukewarm water, Jisung cleaning the cum out of himself all the while glaring at Mark. 

Once they’re clean and presentable, they make their way downstairs, butterflies racing in Mark’s stomach. “Jisung!” A soft voice calls and Mark stops in his tracks surprised to hear a feminine voice in the household. A dark-haired woman rushes out of the kitchen, gathering Jisung in her arms and kissing him on the cheek. Jisung looks vaguely uncomfortable but he returns the hug. Stepmom, Mark realizes as he recognizes her as the woman from the wedding photos. “Hi, Hayoon,” he greets quietly. 

“And you must be Mark,” she says turning to him. Mark isn’t expecting to be enveloped into a hug, yet Hayoon doesn’t hesitate, warm palms rubbing up and down his back. “I’m so glad Jisung finally found someone to keep him from sleeping around!” 

“Excuse me?” Mark says, coldly, distancing himself away from her. 

“It’s fine,” Jisung says quietly. 

“It’s not—“

“It’s not like I meant anything by it. I was just joking, right Jisung?”

“Right,” he agrees, an embarrassed flush taking over his face. Mark quietly seethes. No wonder Jisung let the rumors get that bad. He heard the same shit at home. 

The stairs creak and Mark finds himself meeting the stern face of Mr. Park. “Jisung,” he greets. 

“Dad,” Jisung says back. Mark looks between the two of them, the tension palpable. Neither of them makes a move to hug one another or to say anything at all besides the lackluster greeting. Jesus, this is going to be a long night. 

He turns away when it becomes clear Jisung has nothing left to say. “Mark. It’s been a while,” he says, extending a hand for Mark to shake. 

“Yes sir, it has,” he agrees.

“Well,” Hayoon says. “Let’s not just stand here. Let’s eat!”

Mark catches Jisung's eye across the room. A long night indeed. 

“So you're the reason we haven’t seen our Jisung since October?” Mr. Park asks the second they have their plates loaded with food. He laughs when he says but there is no humor in his eyes or crossed arms. 

Mark laughs uneasily, looking at Jisung for help. “Dad,” he says tersely. “I already said that was my idea.” 

“One that you wouldn’t have had if not for this one.” 

Mark flushes with shame. Very suddenly it hits him how he does not want to be here. _They think you’re bad for him_. And it’s stupid, for that to even hurt Mark because they’re not really dating but shit, they might be right. 

“That’s not fair—“

Mark toughens up and slaps a smile on his face. He may not want to be here, but Jisung wants him here. “It’s fine, Sung,” he says, stroking his thumb over Jisung’s skin. 

Mr. Park looks at the gesture with an expression Mark can’t begin to read. 

“So Mark... you’re a senior in college, no?”

Mark nods already hating where this conversation is headed. “What are your plans after college?”

Mark hates questions like these most. They always make it seem like he’s not hard-working like he has nothing going for him. “I’m a music major, sir. So my goal is to be signed before graduation.”

“Ah,” for the first time he actually looks pleased. “What kind of music do you make?”

Jisung's fork scraps abruptly on the glass plate, body tensing. “Mostly rap music, sir.”

His face falls into a disappointed frown before he says, “So no plans after college I see.” 

It stings, yeah but it’s nothing Mark hasn’t heard before. Mark is sure Jisung has heard the same thing when they hear he’s a dance major or that he attends SM University. “Sure, sir.” He agrees with as much sarcasm as he can without being disrespectful. 

“Do you always take advantage of underclassmen?”

“Dad!” Jisung cries across the table. “What the fuck!?”

“I’m just asking a question,” he raises his eyebrows at Mark like he’s expecting an answer. How the fuck is Mark supposed to answer that. 

“Um, no sir?”

“You don’t sound too sure. Care to explain?”

“Look,” Mark says, “We’re all consenting adults I don’t see a problem with it.”

“You don’t see my disapproval for your relationship as a problem?”

Mark clenches his jaw, eyes cutting to Jisung who can’t even look at him. His hand tightens around his fork and Mark can see tears clinging to his lashes. No wonder he’s so timid being raised by a man like this. “Quite frankly, Sir no I do not. As I said, we're all adults here and Jisung can make his own decisions. As long as he chooses me I will choose him.” 

“Quite frankly, Mark I don’t think I want you in my house anymore.”

Mark slams his fork on the table. “Fine.” He says, shortly, stomping upstairs to pack his back. They didn’t do much unpacking anyway. 

Mark can hear muffled shouts downstairs and then quick footsteps making their way towards Jisung’s bedroom. “Fuck this,” Jisung sighs. “Hyung are you okay?”

“Yeah.” 

“I’m _so_ sorry, hyung he said he wouldn’t be like this,” Jisung apologizes profusely. 

“It’s fine,” Mark says but his words are a little too cold and he drops his luggage a little too hard. 

“It’s not.” He flops down on the mattress. “Now you know why I don’t date.”

Mark swallows past the lump in his throat. “Do you think I’m bad for you?”

Jisung sends him a look like he’s trying to dissect him and Mark realizes just how weird it was for him to ask that. _This isn’t real._ God, why is he such a mess. “What?” Jisung asks uneasily, an uncomfortable laugh in his voice. 

“Nothing, I... I don’t know why I asked that.”

“Um, okay,” he says. “Look I totally understand if you want to go home. I’ll pay for your train ticket and everything.”

“Come with me?” Mark asks suddenly. 

Jisung’s lips part in surprise before he smiles, a _real_ smile this time, lips quirking in a way Mark is absolutely enamored by. He seriously has no business feeling like this but he can’t help it; He’s so in love. “Okay.”

Mark’s mom has met Jisung one time since they’ve started this fake dating thing. It was in passing, Jisung coming as she was going. She treated him like he was the cutest thing ever even though she’s met Jisung countless times, squishing his cheeks until he was flushed and thanking him for ending Mark’s old ways with a wink. What she meant by that Mark doesn’t know but it definitely sounded different from the way Hayoon spoke to Jisung. 

Jisung had laughed and by the end of the five-minute encounter, she was hugging Jisung tightly. “I can’t wait to get to know you.”

He calls his mom now, Jisung packing a suitcase while Mark sits on the bed. “Hello?”

“Hey, mom.”

“Mark! Do you know you were supposed to call me when your train arrived! Not only do you leave me and your sister alone for Christmas, but you also can't even honor my one wish?” She huffs dramatically, working herself up into a fit.

Jisung laughs quietly to himself at Mark’s expression, kissing the pout off his face. Mark flushes because there’s no one here to see him do it and yet he kissed him anyway. “About that... How do you feel about me and Sung coming over for Christmas?”

His mom hums thoughtfully. “What happened? Now that I think about it, you don’t sound too great.”

“Nothing important. I’ll explain when I get there. If we’re allowed that is?”

“Of course! I’ve been dying to be properly introduced to cutie Jisung.”

“Mom you already know him,” he complains. 

“Not as your boyfriend,” she insists. 

“Whatever, we'll be there in about three hours?” He questions, looking to Jisung for confirmation. 

“I’ll save you two a plate.”

+++

Jisung has been inside the Lee house too many times to count. He used to spend his days here when he was younger, his hand pressed warm against his mother’s as they strolled up to the door greeted warmly by Johnny. Now he spends most weekends here, running in and out of the house for snacks and lemonade, and Donghyuck’s every whim that she decides is too much effort to retrieve herself. 

“Hi, Ms. Lee,” he greets like he always does, a short bow before he tries to retreat upstairs. 

“Excuse me Jisung Park! You think you can get away with that when you’ve been dating my son under my nose for months!?” She yanks him into a hug, tight and warm, and everything he hasn’t felt in years. “We haven’t had a real conversation in years, mister. And you!” Jisung feels her gesture behind him, probably to point at Mark. “Why don’t you visit, hm? I’ve probably seen Jisung more than you, my own son!” 

“I’ve been busy…” Mark trails off like he knows that was the wrong thing to say. 

Ms. Lee lets him go, hands on her hips. “Mark. Lee. Too busy for your mother? How dare you?”

Jisung snorts to himself, and inexplicably he wants to cry. He can almost imagine the same words coming from his own mother.

“Mom—“ He starts, exasperated. 

“I don’t wanna hear it,” she interrupts. “Go shower you both smell like a train station.” 

+++

Once they’re freshly showered (again), Jisung splays himself out over Mark’s bed, his legs hanging off the side. 

“I had a crush on you in high school, you know? Being in here right now, about to get railed on your bed? High school me’s favorite wet dream.”

Mark snorts, “God, why?”

“You were Donghyuck’s mysterious older brother. Except you were always nice to me. And you were the only other gay person I knew at the time. You were safe.”

“And now?”

“I wouldn’t say you’re safe but. I trust you.” He admits because it’s always been true. 

Mark was the first person Jisung came out to. 

Mark being bisexual was something that always was in the same way Mark laughs a lot and he has big eyes and a cute smile. 

So maybe his crush on Mark was his sort of gay awakening. He had played it out in his head: he would tell Mark he was gay and Mark would say he was in love with Jisung. Obviously, that didn’t happen, Jisung being 15 and Mark being 18 and on his way to college. 

But late is always better than never. 

Mark feels the weight of those words in his palm. With the rumors and the slut-shaming Mark is sure Jisung finds it hard to trust most people. 

When Mark evidently takes too long to respond, Jisung changes the subject. “Johnny Hyung is so famous now.”

Mark shrugs a little. Jisung is right, Johnny takes pictures of plenty of up-and-coming celebrities and has millions of followers on his Instagram and he is happily in love with his model boyfriend Yukhei. He has a lot going for him. “Do you still do photography too?”

Mark startles, surprised Jisung remembered that. Mark had stopped after high school because that was always more Johnny’s thing and he loved music and rap more than he liked taking pictures. But lately, when he looks at Jisung he wants to freeze those moments forever. “Not so much anymore,” he answers. 

“Oh,” Jisung says, sounding a little disappointed.

“What?”

“Nothing I just— Thought it would be cool if you took pictures next time we fuck. Is that weird?” He looks away but Mark can see his ears are pink. 

“I don’t mind,” Mark says quickly. “I want to, actually.” 

“Cool.”

And that’s that. Mark finds his camera, plugs it up and Jisung gives him a private smile that has Mark’s stomach flipping in anticipation. 

Later that night, Jisung crawls over him, pressing the camera to his chest. Watch me, his eyes say, pupils blown with a small ring of brown. 

He slides off Mark's body, unbuttoning his jeans, revealing prominent hip bones, pushing past his thighs. Mark raises the camera, capturing the way Jisung’s shirt dips to reveal his collarbones, the way it hangs and drags across his bare thighs. 

He captures the way his thumbs hooked in his underwear, tugging, revealing he’s half hard already. 

When the shirt disappears too, he captures the silver chain stark against white skin, the beautiful arch of Jisung’s spine when he crawls on the bed. The way his toned stomach melts into soft curves and delicate ankles. The way his hand looks curled around his cock, thighs closing in, almost as if to hide. 

When he’s finally allowed to touch, he captures his pale hand spreading Jisung’s thighs apart because he wants to remember this always. 

+++

Kissing for them has always been a means to an end. A way to get one another hot and bothered before they fucked or a way to quiet one another’s moans during the actual fucking. 

It’s never been this, a firm hand at the base of his skull, a chaste press of mouths in front of Johnny and Mark’s mother. It’s not even a kiss longer than three seconds but the sheer familiarity of it leaves his knees weak. 

Mark has never touched him outside of the privacy of a bedroom so to be gathered in his arms while Jisung helps in the kitchen and Mark hangs uselessly from him and mouths at his neck because he can is a level of intimacy Jisung isn’t ready for. 

It doesn’t help that Johnny snaps photos of them and Mrs. Lee coos about how she needs to frame them all while Donghyuck looks on with barely concealed amusement. 

And it doesn’t help that Jisung likes it, could get used to it even, Mark holding him like he’s something dear to him and he wants the world to know it. He wants to get used to it which is worse than any lingering discomfort the public affection leaves. 

+++

Winter break paces in a blur of rehearsal with the band and dinners with Mark’s family and before he knows it he’s right back on campus, throwing himself into his work. 

He has a ballet recital coming up and his father is hounding on him nonstop with hours and hours of grueling practice. He hardly has time for anything or anyone anymore. He misses shows with the band which he feels immensely guilty about and he hasn’t seen Mark in days, the only sign they’ve seen each other at all is the hickey just under his tattoo. 

He’s exhausted beyond belief but he still shows up to every practice. “Why do you do what he says? It’s clearly draining you.” Mark had asked one night in the quiet of his room. It was dark, the only light shining through from the moon. Mark’s hand grazes over his hip, finding where his tattoo ends even in the dark. 

“It’s the only way we would still have a relationship. If I gave it all up we wouldn’t have anything and I can’t break my mom’s heart like that. She’d be so disappointed in the both of us,” Jisung answered and they left it at that. 

Jisung remembers his mom loved him, music, and his father in that exact order. 

One of his earliest memories of her was her showing him the grand piano that laid in the center of their home. “Music was the first love of my life,” she told him, warm hands covering his as she guided him over the keys of the piano. “And you were my second, Darling.” He remembers her pinching his pink cheeks and whispering, “I love you most.”

He loves the piano. Each time he plays he can feel the ghost of her behind him, the whisper of her dark hair against his cheek, and the scent of peaches. The piano is a warm hug where his father had none to offer. 

So he keeps it to himself, doesn’t show anyone what he knows, stops attending recitals, and keeps this, the only love he’s ever known close to his chest. 

His father resents him for it, he thinks. He has a talent for the piano like no other and he refuses to show it off. His mother was the same way. It’s the only way Jisung knows he can truly spite him. 

His stepmother is lovely but she is soft and she never once stopped Jisung’s father from mistreating him. 

His father is cruel but never once laid a hand on him. That doesn’t mean he didn’t force Jisung to practice until his soles bled.

“Your recital is in a week, Jisung,” his father says exasperated, gesturing at the bruises on his throat. “Can you not sleep around for two seconds?”

Jisung purses his lips, deciding not to respond to him. The last thing he wants is to make this practice longer by arguing. 

“Perfection is what your mother would have wanted.”

“She would have hated this.” She hated you, he doesn’t say, he never does but god is it on the tip of his tongue. His father tenses like he heard it anyway, turning away to restart the music. “Again.”

He wants to cry. He misses his mom. He misses Mark. He hates this. His father has never been able to take away his love for music, he would be betraying his mom if he ever allowed it, but he hates this. Practicing until sweat is clouding his vision and he nearly pukes on the slick wooden floors. Even still, he stands again, he dances again under his father’s watchful eye, and yearns for one last hug from his mom again. 

By the end of practice, his father sends him one last pitying look. “You’re distracted. I think you need to stop seeing that boy.”

“What?” 

“You need to focus on your work. You’re not improving and since you won’t perform what you really have a talent for you need all the practice you can get in this.”

“What the fuck does Mark have to do with any of it!” 

“Like I said, he’s a distraction. He has no goals, nothing good will come out of a relationship with him, Jisung.”

Jisung’s eyes brim with frustrated tears. “Fuck. You.” He spits 

“You’re only angry because I’m right. You’re not improving and you know it.”

“I don’t even know how mom could deal with your shit!” He finally exploded. “You don’t care about anything or anyone, just this shitty job! What I’m doing with Mark has nothing to do with the fact that I don’t love dancing anymore and that’s on you! You make me hate everything mom ever loved and for what? Because you’re sad? Well fuck, dad I’m sad too! I miss her too! We were supposed to be there for each other when we lost her but I was left to grieve alone! I was _fifteen_ and instead of losing one parent I lost two!” 

His chest is heaving by the end of his outburst. That doesn’t even cover half the shit he’s been wanting to say to his father after all these years. He doesn’t stick around to hear his response, grabbing his bag before he can begin to feel worse than he already does. 

+++

Jisung pulls him down for a kiss the second Mark opens the door. “I need to fuck. Right now.”

“I, ok?” Mark answers helplessly. What is he gonna do, say no? Mark nods, already being dragged to their bedroom and forced on the bed. Jisung straddles him, yanking his shirt off. Mark pulls him close, kissing him slowly but Jisung forces his tongue inside, making it filthy and hot. 

“Don’t be nice,” he orders, before slinking down Mark’s body. He’s not even half hard but Jisung swallows him all the way down, sucking until  
Mark is rock hard between his lips. 

It isn’t long before Mark is pulling him up, fingers curling around a bottle of lube. Mark fingered him yesterday morning because they haven’t had time for much more, so Jisung is still loose but Mark goes terribly slow, curling toward his prostate just to tease. 

“Mark,” Jisung says impatiently. Mark can’t take him seriously considering he looks like he’s seconds away from crying and Mark refuses to just /use/ him when he’s like this. 

“Just,” Mark sighs, pressing his fingers deeper inside Jisung’s hole. “Let me have this then I’ll fuck you how you need.”

“Can you just— fuck me like you use to.” 

Mark hesitates briefly, fingers stuttering in their path to cup the back of his head. He doesn’t want to dissect what Jisung means by how he used to. “What’s wrong?” His eyes are soft, concerned, and entirely too much. 

“I had a bad day.”

Mark likes to see his face when they fuck. He likes to kiss him and tell him he’s pretty looking into his eyes. He’s sweet like that. Jisung doesn’t want sweet tonight though. He wants bruises and his face pressed in the mattress, moans trapped in the sheets. “Like this, hyung,” Jisung tells him, reaching back to grip Mark’s cock, hot in heavy between his fingers. 

“A-alright,” Mark stutters, cupping Jisung’s ass to spread his cheeks apart and watch himself disappear inside. Jisung fucks himself on his length, too soon to get used to the stretch. He _aches_ deliciously so. He wants this tension to be fucked right out of him. 

Mark’s fingernails sink into his asscheeks as he bottoms out. He can’t help the moan that tumbles out of him, long and low. “Hyung, fuck. So big, please.” He’s already babbling but he’s been without Mark’s dick this deep inside him for too long. 

Mark’s fingers curl under his jaw, slipping into Jisung’s waiting mouth. It leaves Jisung with just a gentle pressure against his throat and fuck, does he want that, rough hands wrapped around his neck. “Hush. My roommates are still here, love.”

Somehow, that turns Jisung on more. He gasps, falling to his elbows on the mattress. One hand curls in the sheets the other joins Mark’s, holding tight to his wrist. Mark pulls his hips up, balls slapping against Jisung’s ass over and over. 

Jisung bites his fingers but Mark doesn’t care. He leans over him, grunting in his ear “You’re so beautiful. Love watching you take my cock.” Jisung clenches hard around him. He needs more.

And more Mark gives, fucking him so hard, Jisung can’t help the way he squirms, whining whenever Mark pulls Jisung back on his cock each time he tries to run away. He’s like a rag doll in his hands, made to be fucked on his cock. 

“Fuck, hyung I love your cock, feel so good, fuck.”

Mark leans forward to bite his nape, grinding against his ass in tight circles that tease at Jisung’s prostate each time. Mark spreads his legs further, and he’s so deep, Jisung can feel himself trembling can feel shockwaves of pleasure punching broken sobs out of him. “Don't stop,” he keens. 

“Fuck,” Mark moans in his ear, “You sound so hot, baby, fuck love you so much.”

He’s going to cry, from his impending orgasm or Mark’s words, he doesn’t know but tears are already rolling down his cheeks. “Shit—I, gonna come.”

Mark draws back far and it's only the hand that Jisung throws back, with a hard smack to grab Mark’s ass that keeps his cock inside. Mark laughs quietly at the unspoken don't you dare but doesn’t thrust back all the way in. Slowly, Jisung fucks himself back until Mark is all the way in his guts, cock pulsing with every slick slide. He’s shaking by the end of it. “Hyung please, I need to come.” 

“Yeah, baby?” Mark yanks Jisung’s arm backward pressing his own forearm to the arch of his spine so Jisung has no choice but to drop his chest to the mattress, ass high in the air and it’s _so_ good. Mark thrust inside hard and fast and Jisung can only take it, toes twitch in the sheets unable to touch or shy away. “Go ahead, come for me.” 

His orgasm rips through him, painting the sheets white as Mark keeps fucking into him until he finally pumps in load deep inside, holding Jisung’s hips down while he squirms and cries. 

He takes a few minutes to catch his breath before he pulls out. It’s then, Jisung realizes they didn’t use a condom, Mark’s come sliding down his balls and thighs. He huffs, willing his body to obey when Mark turns him around. His hips and lower back are sore and probably bruised from Mark holding him down so hard and his ass aches. 

He hurts so good. 

“You with me?” Jisung nods slowly. Mark leans down to kiss him, gathering Jisung into his lap despite the slick mess. “Was I too rough?”

“No you were perfect, hyung,” Jisung swallows thickly, heart-clenching when Mark brushes his mouth against his forehead. 

“Let me clean you up,” he murmurs before going off to get a clean rag. He wipes between his legs and his cheeks as gently as he can but Jisung can’t help but wince. 

“So it’s been a month,” finally says when he’s done. 

“Of?” Mark asks distractedly, pulling on a new pair of underwear. 

“The fake dating,” Jisung answers, getting dressed too because he wants clothes on for the conversation they’re about to have next. 

“Oh right. I’ll make sure to talk to my mom when I go home next week.”

“Hyung,” Jisung says carefully. “I think we should stop…” he trails off because fucking seems too vulgar for what they’ve been doing. It hasn’t been just sex for a long time now and that’s why Jisung needs this to end. “Seeing each other,” he settles on, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. 

Mark’s fingers go taut on the knob of his dresser for a second before he resumes rummaging through for clothes. “Why?” He says quietly. 

“You know I can’t—You would never fit in my life.”

“What do you mean by that?” He still won’t look at him but Jisung knows he’s hurt because Jisung is hurting too. “It’s just sex.”

“You know it’s more. We both know you—”

Mark slams the drawer closed, turning to face him for the first time and Jisung flinches hard, rising from bed. “If you knew how I felt about you this whole time then why—“

“I can't date you.” 

“Why? Because your dad said so?”

Jisung’s hand tightens, eyes flickering to the bedroom where he knows his roommates are just outside. He really doesn’t want to argue. “Because I say so, you asshole.”

“Yeah, like you’ve ever made a decision for yourself in your goddamn life.” Jisung recoils. Mark knows all the ways to hurt him. But it doesn’t change the fact that it’s true, his father has been the mitigating factor in all of his decisions including this one. 

“I’m my own fucking person.”

“Then act like it!” Mark yells. “Give me a real fucking reason!” 

“Be quiet!” Jisung hisses, looking at the door again. Mark strides over to him, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to _look_ at the way he’s hurting him. 

“The whole building can hear, for all I care. Look me in the eye and tell me there isn’t something here.”

“There isn’t,” he says firmly. “You’re nothing but a warm body to me. We were just fucking but I’m bored of you now.”

Mark steps away, laughing bitterly. “That’s how you feel?” He demands, soft and low and on the verge of tears. 

Jisung sucks in a harsh breath to prepare himself for the lie. “Yeah.”

“Get the fuck out.”

“Hyung—“ he starts, already wanting to apologize. 

“What?” Mark snaps. “You’d think I’d want you around after you just— get the fuck out.”

Jisung leaves, tears burning in the back of his throat with every step. 

+++

They sit in silence for a long time, Jisung nursing his hot chocolate and Donghyuck slurping her tea. Her eyes pick him apart and he allows it. He’s not even sure why he agreed to meet her. 

“You know my mom always used to tell me prodigies have frail hearts.” 

Jisung snorts, fingers skimming over the lid of his cup. That’s not the first thing he expected her to say to him. He bets Ms. Lee was talking about his own mother when she said that. “Yeah, well.” He says, indifferent to the words. “I guess you could say I do.”

“No love for anything but good at everything. That’s you.”

Jisung’s fingers curl into fists at his side. “That’s me,” he agrees. 

“Fuck you,” Donghyuck says with feeling. “You’re going to make me choose?”

“Do whatever you want.”

“I don’t want to lose you again,” she whispers. “I don’t want you to lose yourself again.”

Jisung tries his hardest not to flinch. Swallowing around the lump in his throat he reasons, “He’s your brother.”

“He’s my brother,” She agrees. “I don’t understand why you have to do this.”

“I…” Jisung doesn’t quite understand it himself if he were being honest. “I just can’t be with him.”

“It’s okay for people to know you, Jisung. I know you haven’t felt safe since your mom passed but you have to know it’s okay.” Donghyuck has always been blunt, it’s something Jisung has always appreciated even now when no one else would have the guts to mention his mother to his face. Jisung is horrified to realize there are tears clinging to his lashes. “It’s okay to be loved, Jisung.”

He looks away, tears clinging to his lashes. He’s been trying to tell himself the same thing. 

+++

He uses the photos for the cover of his next single. It’s this one in particular that causes a stir, Jisung’s naked chest flushed pink, the chain he was wearing dangling in front of the camera, his mouth open and wanting, a firm hand at the back of his neck. Mark had captured it just as Jisung sank down on his cock, completely lost to the pleasure. 

It was the last picture he took before Jisung demanded Mark pay attention to him. It's not his favorite, that one is reserved for the photo he got of Jisung laughing because Mark dropped the camera on his face. He’s completely naked save for the shirt he had undone and hanging off one shoulder, the start of his tattoo peeking out. 

Now Mark only has a little bit of clout, a small following on Soundcloud and an even smaller one on youtube. He gets a couple of thousand streams but nothing like this. Johnny posts the link on his Instagram story and his fans flood Mark’s Soundcloud like a tsunami. 

Mark can’t find it in himself to be happy. Instead, he feels guilty. He used these pictures without Jisung’s consent, thinking barely anyone would see them, and now millions have. He bared his feelings about Jisung to a crowd that was never meant to hear them. 

His heartbreak reaps the benefits of what he’s always wanted. Life picks up pace around him when all he wants to do is mope around in bed. It starts with his single blowing up, girls flooding his Instagram account with DMS, and a record deal being offered through a quote retweet of all things. He can’t bring himself to be happy capitalizing on the way Jisung hurt him

Donghyuck calls him an idiot when she finds out he hasn’t accepted any of the floodgates of offers he’s received. “Why are you so upset? It’s not like you two were really dating.”

Mark is silent for a long time. He keeps replaying the conversation in his head in a torturous loop. It leaves his stomach flopping, heart beating too quick too loud from the anxiety and anger mixing in equal parts. “I wanted to. I thought… maybe we could be something more.”

“You know Jisung—“

“That’s the problem! I don’t know him!”

“Mark,” Donghyuck says carefully. “I warned you. I told you it would be like this.”

“I know that, I just… thought it would be different.”

“But it isn’t,” she says, harsh like she’s always been. Mark can always count on her to never hold back with him and he loves her dearly for it. “Now stop being a dumbass and move on. Build your life, focus on the other love of your life. Don’t let this opportunity go to waste.”

Mark frowns to himself. A part of him knows she’s right, he just wishes he had a little more time to be sad despite all of the good things happening around him. “I guess you’re right,” he relents.

Donghyuck grins smugly. “Of course I am. What would you do without me?”

Mark honestly doesn’t know. Not that he’ll ever tell her that

+++

Weeks pass before they inevitably have their cliche ‘Oh No I Ran Into My Ex’ meeting. The two of them must be experts at avoidance given how their inner circles are so intertwined Mark thought they would have seen each other before now. 

They run into each other one campus crossing paths both on their way to their respective studios. Mark is honestly surprised it hadn’t happened sooner given how much he used to see Jisung around campus.

Mark is completely (not) prepared to ignore Jisung and act like he doesn’t exist but Jisung speaks to him. 

“You used the pictures,” is the first thing Jisung says to him in weeks. “I never saw them.”

Mark turns to look at him, fists clenched at his side to hide the way he’s shaking. Jisung’s fist white-knuckles his gym bag. “Are you mad?” Mark would completely understand if he was. He would delete the pictures in an instant if that’s what Jisung wanted. He would purge his single from the internet until there wasn’t any trace left. 

He blinks, shrugging a little. “I was,” he admits. “They’re intimate. I didn’t want them out there for anyone to see. But it’s fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Mark says quickly. “I didn’t think anyone would see them. Or that many people,” he amends. “That was fucked up. Yeah, I was angry but that doesn’t excuse anything.”

Jisung doesn’t bother responding to that. He clears his throat. “I’m not really sure why I came up to you,” he says carefully as if he’s not sure it’s allowed. “I’m happy for you, hyung. I’m glad you can make music the way you wanted.”

He tries not to let the surprise show on his face. He hadn’t even told anyone else other than his family about the record deal. He wonders which one of his siblings is the culprit. Hell, it could have even been his mom. “Thank you,” he says stiffly. God, it's so awkward. “You have a recital coming up. Hope you’re not working too hard?” _I hope he’s not working you too hard._

“I’m fine,” Jisung says quickly, meaning he is definitely far from it. “I should go.”

“I’ll see you around, Jisung,” Mark says, turning away when it seems like Jisung isn’t going to. He has so many things he wants to say but he knows he shouldn’t waste his breath. Jisung has made it clear that he will never want something real with Mark and that’s fine. It has to be fine. Mark needs to suck it up and move on with his life, focus on his music like Donghyuck said—

A hand catches his wrist and Mark forces himself not to hope. 

“You know what?” Jisung says. “I’m not fine.”

“What—?”

“No. Shut up. You were right about me. I can’t make decisions for myself. I am working too hard for shit I don’t care about. I _miss_ you. I’ve been missing you for months even when we were screwing because you weren’t mine, not really,” he takes a deep breath as if steeling himself for something. “I want to be your boyfriend. For real this time. No bullshit, all strings attached, morning breath kisses and fights and makeup sex and hand holding all that cheesy bullshit.” 

Mark gapes. Jisung stares back, a slow flush creeping over his cheeks the longer Mark looks at him. “Hyung. Say something. Please.” 

“Fuck you.”

Jisung recoils already making a move to walk away. His eyes are clouding with tears as he swallows thickly. “Okay.” 

“Fuck you,” Mark says again, closing the stupid amount of distance between them and cupping Jisung’s face in his hands. “I fucking love you.”

“Y-you do?”

“Yes, you idiot! I told you already. Why do you think I was so angry that day?”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Last time we fucked. I told you I loved you by accident.” 

“No, you didn’t.” Mark rolls his eyes. He barely even sounds sure. 

“I did,” Mark says firmly. 

Jisung turns red, eyes wide. “You did. Oh my god, you did. I’m such a dumbass!”

“I know,” Mark says, smiling wide because he doesn’t care. He’s the fool in love with this dumbass. 

+++

His fingers settle over Mark’s guiding him through the keys once more. “C’mon, this was my mom’s favorite song, you can’t embarrass me like this.” 

Mark huffs but allows Jisung to move him to the tune he hums right beside Mark’s ear. He’s never shared this with anyone. He hasn’t even written it down, he plays the keys of the memory of his mother’s soft singing and the ghost of her delicate hands over his alone. “How are you so good at this?” Mark practically whines. “My hand is cramping.”

Jisung laughs. “Lots of practice but mostly love,” he answers. He releases Mark’s hands and takes over entirely. He feels the way Mark watches him, knows that if he looked up the fondness he feels would be reflected back at him. 

Jisung loves Mark and he loves his music and there really isn’t one he loves more than the other. They're both so deeply intertwined in his heartstrings, Jisung sometimes gets confused by which one causes the warmth in his chest, the skip of his heartbeat. It's sappy and gross and he would never tell Mark as much out loud, at least not yet, but then he catches Mark's eye while his mother's song plays through the music room and he's sure he already knows the way Jisung will keep this love close. 

_**~Fin.** _

**Author's Note:**

> um not sure about how this turned out but i wanted to post after the way life was kicking my ass during this hiatus. i just want to get back into writing and this was where i left off so yeah. i hope yall enjoyed it :)


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